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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27744523">closed mouth litany</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/eidolonn/pseuds/eidolonn'>eidolonn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Coda, Dean Winchester Prays to Castiel, Episode: s15e18 Despair, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair, Quote: Y yo a ti Cas | Me too (Supernatural), Requited Love, this episode is the only finale i acknowledge</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:53:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,242</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27744523</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/eidolonn/pseuds/eidolonn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I think I could love you like that, if you let me.</p><p>If I'm being honest, I already do.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>109</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>closed mouth litany</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>unbeta'd, any mistakes are my own.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s silent now. The buzzing of his phone has long since stopped. Dean has no idea how long he’s been sitting on the floor like this, seconds rolling into minutes rolling into hours, the mark on his shoulder–a ghost of his best friend’s touch–his only company. </p><p>It’s a handprint. He knows it is. He had looked at it once, for a fraction of a second, before tearing his eyes away. </p><p>It doesn’t bear looking at again.</p><p>Dean takes a trembling breath, and it wracks through the whole of his body as if every part of himself, every cell, every atom, wants to fall away completely because even that would be better than this pain he feels. This hollowness. </p><p>And then there’s the guilt. The feverish shame creeping up his spine, up his throat, and latching on tight. It’s all wrong. Everything’s wrong, and he is to blame. It’s his fault for bringing them back to the bunker, dead-set on a mission of vengeance that was misdirected anyway. It’s his fault again, always, <em> always </em>, and yet–</p><p>
  <em> “–You think hate and anger, that’s... that’s what drives you. That’s who you are. It’s not.” </em>
</p><p>Dean <em> aches</em>.</p><p>He aches, and that’s not even the half of it, but he hasn’t the words for how desperately he clings to every last second he spent in Castiel’s presence, chasing his afterimage in the recesses of his mind. For the way, he had felt a part of himself wither pathetically the moment Cas was out of sight. Nor does he have words for how badly he wants to turn back the clock, to have even a second more, the two of them together. </p><p>A second more to find the words. </p><p>It washes over him all over again, and he feels everything and nothing all at once, and so, simply, he aches, and the silence presses in until it’s no longer bearable.  </p><p>“Cas?” He breathes, voice worn ragged by his sobs. It’s a pointless question, a prayer he knows will be unanswered, and it drops cold dead in the emptiness of the room. “I know–I know that you can’t hear me. Not this time.”</p><p>Silence, still. Pins and needles and none of them dropping.</p><p>“But that’s okay,” Dean continues. “I still gotta say this.” There’s a tremor in his voice, and he feels like he’s made of glass, but, in this moment, he can’t bring himself to care. </p><p>“When you said that you <em> loved </em> me, Cas… I’ll be honest. I didn’t understand. And I still–but that’s beside the point. I just couldn’t stop thinking… how you could love anyone so much that the universe turns on its axis? Least of all me? Chuck said that it was you that made the difference. That your choices changed everything, and I believe that, I do, because you–you’re everything. You are power and conviction, and, more than that, you’re kindness. Compassion. You see the best in people. And me? I’m nothing. I’ve never thought I was worth something like this, or someone like you. Not ever.</p><p>“But, Cas, you spoke, and it was like you saw me–really saw me. Like when you saved me all those years ago, you saw me then too. I don’t know how you could’ve seen something beautiful in that person I had become, something worth saving. It makes my head spin, still, the way you looked at me. But suddenly you were gone–and it clicked. It clicked too late, and I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself for that, but Cas… I think I get it now. I understand. Because I remembered how I felt whenever you smiled at me. When you touched me. How every time you go away it leaves me in pieces, and every time you’ve come back to me… and you don’t even know, because I’ve tried to hide to for so long. I’ve tried to untangle myself from you, time, and time again because you <em> terrify </em> me. I terrify <em> myself </em> , the way I feel about you. Think about you. I’ve never needed anyone before the way I need you. I see the way you loved me– <em> love </em> me, and I realized that it was like looking into a mirror. </p><p>“You love so completely that you’ve brought the world to its knees, that you’ve unwritten fate itself, and I didn’t know I was capable, but... I think I could love you like that, if you let me. If I’m being honest, I already do.” Dean shakes his head, and a smile begins to shine through the cracks of his broken expression. “<em> I love you </em>,” he whispers. </p><p>It’s an exhalation and exultation all at once, and the truth of it leaves him trembling.</p><p>“I always thought love was destructive. That loving people meant they could only leave. But you didn’t destroy me. You saved me–again, and again, and again. Your love made me whole in a way I still don’t know how I deserve. But I’ll try to understand. I’ll try to be the person you always believed me to be. I’m sorry I didn’t try before. I’m sorry I couldn’t show you. <em> Tell </em> you.</p><p>“I’m so sorry, Cas,” he prays, “and I love you. I love you,” Dean takes those three words and holds them close, repeating them until they fill up every inch of space in the empty room. Until he’s breathless.</p><p>Dean catches the next sob as it comes and swallows it down whole. He doesn’t move, weighed down by guilt and heavy silence, but he remembers. He remembers. </p><p>
  <em> “Why does this sound like a goodbye?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Because it is.” Castiel smiles, and Dean’s heart is torn into pieces. “I love you.” </em>
</p><p><em> War wages inside Dean’s mind, his thoughts so clamoring he can’t discern a single one. He’s being dragged every which way, kicking and screaming inside his own body, confronted with both the reality of losing his best friend all over again–and the other, somehow less believable reality that he is loved. He is loved by Castiel, and </em> wanted <em> . It’s all far too much to take in, so Dean just stands there, cotton-mouthed and misty-eyed, his heart surging in his chest like rolling thunder, pounding like fugitive feet on solid ground. He should do something. Say something.  </em></p><p>
  <em> The truth lays heavy in the hollow of his jawbone.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Cas gazes at him fondly, and–not expectantly, no, because Castiel never expects anything in return. Rather, his expression is earth-shatteringly reverent. Unselfishly proud, as if loving Dean–even when he’d bloody, broken, and beaten-down–is, in all his millions of years, his greatest achievement.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> In an instant, Dean’s heart swells with something tender yet altogether desperate. He needs to say it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “And I –” Dean stops short. Even now, he chokes on those three words, small at first glance but infinite in their scope. He hates himself for it, but still, he is petrified. Dean takes a deep steadying breath, and he does the best that he can.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Me too, Cas.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Carefully, the words form in his mouth, molded with every ounce of adoration he possesses. Even to Dean’s own ears, it sounds like an oath. His heart settles in the cradle of his ribcage, stone-heavy with his own ineloquence. It’s not nearly enough but it’ll have to do. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The look that passes over Castiel’s face is warm, and he understands. Dean can ask for no more than that as they stare into the black. </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for reading! comments and kudos are always appreciated &lt;3</p><p>you can find me here:<br/><a href="https://twitter.com/castlell">twitter</a><br/><a href="https://curiouscat.qa/GAYCASTIEL">curiouscat</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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